GRENFELL TOWER
What we know so far.
We can't tell
the dead that
the fire was not
the reason for their death.
Now they are gone
the black tower
stands for the living
to view the shame.
The spark ignited
long before the inferno
stoked by the
political poker
in the cauldron
of austerity that
fanned the
merciless flames.
Avie.
LIGHT YEARS AND POLES APART.
I clocked the silver star
flying up the parade
you were on the phone
looking all top notch
talking to other planets.
Outside the Blue Bell cafe
your spaceship commander
stopped at the road crossing
my keys started to jingle
shopping bag handles wired to my hands
cut through my fingers
from the weight of milk.
At this moment in time
our universes collided
both of us
journeying into different galaxies.
Avie.
AWAKENING
When the silver jingle
turns the cold steel and
breaks the silence
with his naked hand
the fear is real
in the graveyard of light
as the trapeze killer
swings across
the geometric snare
capturing the wings of
the silken dawn.
Avie.
EBIS
The tail wings roar
from here to
worlds away
behind chained fences
a street away
from Jehovah's place
half time oranges
four quarters full.
Avie.
DELIBERATION
Change asked for Action
do you think
they are talking about
us again?
No I think they are talking
about the three of us,
replied Solution.
So do we all agree on this?
asked Decision.
making impatient gestures towards the hands of the clock.
Yes unanimously
said Unison.
Then leave it with me
said the Hard yards.
Avie.
THE FURIES
A David and Goliath battle
emerged without a sword to wield only words armoured the foot soldiers as kind weaponry to coax the feral force.
The perpetrator
locked in defiant battle
cursed with a hot temper amongst the remnants of broken shell.
Inside the corrupted skull
rides a bolted creature
a Gladiator holds
the reigns until it's
stamina is broken
and the child is tamed.
Avie.
PAT LLANALIAN.
When we visited you
I remember a
conversation in
the car with my
Mother and Father.
I said this side of
the island seemed like
the end of the world
we laughed at the irony
about living in New Zealand.
In the bungalow
You handed me
a pair of powerful binoculars you said if I followed the telegraph wires
as a guide to the end
I could see Brian working
on the Chapel roof and
Holyhead mountain
rising up into the icy sky.
The fields divided up by
grey stone walls and
driving along the narrow road a green double decker bus
as if mustering the sheep.
This morning
my Mother called to say
that you had been
found dead in bed.
My Mother
always a stickler
for morbid detail.
Your Welsh was kind and beautiful.
Avie.
